


Ghosts Of The Mind

by Snapeloverxoxo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:42:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27660851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snapeloverxoxo/pseuds/Snapeloverxoxo
Summary: ~Post-war/AU~Severus Snape; a man known by many titles. He never cared much for others' opinions of him, however being given a second chance at life, he is determined to alter his legacy. So many injured, so many cures yet to be discovered...After a great success, the Potions Master agrees to take on the most challenging case of all, that all fellow professionals abandoned:The incurably annoying case of the Boy Who Lived Twice.//healing, angst, hope, romance//REMINDER: This is a fanfiction! Most characters and settings belong to original author, J.K. Rowling.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	1. Preface

He didn't know how he got there; yet there he was being thanked and applauded by hundreds of healers, patients, friends, family. He did it. Somehow he did it.

Neville Longbottom made his way through the crowd towards him. Times have changed, Severus thought. He remembered the terrified little boy, with that disgusting frog, from first year and compared that image to the handsome man who now approached him with a bright smile. Gryffindors, he mentally scoffed, as he saw the twinkling eyes that reminded him of the late Albus Dumbledore.

"Severus!" the young man greeted him with a strong hug that no longer left him frozen in the spot, "I can't thank you enough!"

The ex-deatheater patted Neville's back and gave a genuine smile as they were face to face again. "Believe me, I wanted to do this." he repeated his earlier words, in attempt of downplaying his achievement. 

Yes, he was proud, of course he was... But even 5 years after the war, he could not bare the attention people gave him. Too much. Way too much. Severus Snape was presumed dead for the first three months after the war. In the fourth month, he was found as a bloody beaten and starved prisoner at a Deatheaters hide out. Frankly, the remainder of Voldemort's followers blamed the traitors like him for their master's downfall. After, he spent another six months in recovery; first at St Mungo's, then - much to Minerva's insistence - Hogwarts. 

By the first anniversary of the Second Wizarding War, the Potions Master was working day and night on a cure he had wished to invent since his late teen years. That cure he finally managed to come up with, after years of experimenting and multiple failed attempts. The Longbottoms were cured. He did it.

"I just..." a sob escaped Neville's mouth, and Severus was instantly brought back from his trip down memory lane, "I'm so happy! You don't understand..."

It was the ex-Headmaster's turn to offer comfort to the young man he had grown close over the past years. They had worked together on the cure after all. Even if the Gryffindor was still abysmal at potions-making, he was acceptable (perhaps even above expectations, but Severus would never admit that aloud) at Herbology and the preparation of ingredients. Although at first the two fought with tooth and nail, now the Potions Master was close to calling the young man his best friend.

As the happy sobs subsided, he was faced with the remaining two of the infamous Golden Trio. His heart clenched painfully at the sight of a less lively Granger and a broken ginger Weasley. Neville stiffened and slowly moved away, muttering a quick excuse. 

"Professor." Granger nodded in greeting, and the ginger stood staring at her side.

"I am no longer your professor, Miss Granger. I haven't been for the past six years." he couldn't help but respond sharply.

Weasley turned away at the words and started walking away pulling the girl along, "I told you Hermione. He hasn't changed a bit."

Granger however pulled away and regarded him with a glare, "He will listen, and that is all I ask." She stepped back to Severus and for a moment, the elder man was reminded of the young know-it-all he taught all those years ago.

"In that case sir, I am no longer your student. Hermione would be an appropriate way to address me." she extended a hand in truce. The ex-professor shook it and mumbled "Severus" which she gave a nod to.

"What may I help you with, Gra-Hermione?"

The bushy haired look around to see the Weasley has left the room and sighed. Severus took the opportunity to observe her properly. Dark bags under her eyes, bony face, greasy bun of hair... Her attire was suitable for the occasion, but the body in it was worn out.

"It's about Harry." she started carefully and Severus froze. He knew this was coming at some point. He knew it. Especially after his great success with Alice and Frank. That however did not mean he was prepared. "I would like to officially ask you to take upon his case."

"Granger I don-"

"It's Hermione." she cut in, and he took a deep breath.

"Hermione. I-"

"Look Severus, I know the two of you have a past. A pretty rough one at that, but if anyone, it's you who has the skill to cure him. Help him. Someway. Please. Don't..." her voice broke and tears flooded her eyes "Don't give up on him like everyone else has. Please."

Damn crying women, Severus thought then he began to consider his options. On one hand, he could agree. Fix up Potter, let the Boy and Co. live happily ever after. Perhaps even cure his own guilt while being at it. On the other hand, he could refuse. That was a fun part of this job he supposed. He had the choice, unlike under his previous masters. He was his own master now. He could refuse the case of H. J. Potter, and move on to his other ambition of finding a cure to lycanthropy. Yes, that was something he desired to do. 

However, looking back at the hopeless Hermione; he took the case.


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments! I do plan on continuing, rest assured. Hope you like this chapter! Keep up with the feedback :)

With a sigh, Severus reached over his pillow and switched the ringing muggle alarm clock off. 5 o'clock, AM. He grudgingly pushed off his duvet, shivered at the cold air of the dungeons, then left his cosy hideout to get started for another day. Although it began as a normal day, Severus knew it was a day to remember. It was the day he began his work with his ex-student, who currently laid unconscious in a secluded area of St. Mungo's. Potter had not awoken in the past five years, collapsing after a memorable battle that ended in the defeat of the Dark Lord. Supposedly the defeat of Potter too, Severus thought unhappily. 

Stepping out of the steamy shower, the Potions Master took a quick look in the bathroom mirror. Some would say he looked as ugly as ever, but in reality, he himself knew his appearance had greatly improved since his recovery. His face was less pale and filled a bit since his eating habits changed for the better. His raven hair did not look as greasy as when working with classes full of potions daily. Of course scars from his past life remained as a reminder, like the faint white line that ran across his throat. Severus ran a tip of a finger along the line. Yes; that will always remain. He had stopped applying dittany to it, after the two year mark of the Final Battle. 

He cleared his mind and dressed into his usual outfit: a shirt and slacks. Obviously black. Despite Luna Lovegood - or rather Luna Longbottom - being a close friend of his, Severus refrained from bright coloured clothing. Not his style, he shivered at the thought. He was thankful for Luna and Neville not attempting to change him so, and accepting him for the way he was. Understandably unusual for Severus, having not had a true friend since Lily Evans. He was close to the Malfoys he supposed, but when it really mattered... No. He would not class them as friends. Enemies? Hm. Mutual acquaintances. Lucius was a coward and Narcissa cared for her family only (even that wretched sister of hers, Lestrange). Draco was an apple that fell far from the tree, he chuckled inwardly. The young blonde never wanted to be apart of Voldemort's crew, but he had little choice in the matter. Nowadays, Draco completely abandoned the Malfoy name and instead took up his husband's surname: Weasley! The ex-headmaster could not help it and laughed out loud with the same sense of disbelief as when he first heard it. 

Who would have thought that Draco Malfoy would end up with George Weasley?

After realising how stupid he looked laughing alone in his rooms like a maniac, Severus caught his breath and moved to the kitchen for a quick breakfast. He never was one for house elves, he considered as he took out a pan, bacon and eggs. Wizard ways of cooking were not for him either. While his omelette cooled, the man chopped up some vegetables and poured some milk in his coffee. As he sat down a feeling of contentedness flooded his senses. For some reason, he found himself happy! After all these years... Severus shrugged it off and ate. He cannot fully feel redeemed yet. Definitely not. Especially today, when he is about to start on a new case. On that note, he took notice of the small pile on the opposite end of the table. He dropped them there yesterday, not having energy to look over the lot. 

The Potions Master finished up and washed his plate, part of him filling with curiosity to what Potter's files contained. Many healers and professionals have attempted to wake the boy, to cure him, but no one - as far as he was aware - got even close. Surely he could find a lead? It could not be that hard. Eventually, Severus picked up the top file which was clearly stated to entail the notes of Healer Briggs. Briggs was a well-known war medic, who received an Order of Merlin First Class for his hard work during and after the Second Wizarding War. Completely on the light side, and not once swayed towards the Dark Lord. Severus had not met the Healer in person, yet he knew the man was not someone to give up on a patient. Of course, Potter was a special case, he scoffed.

"Mr Potter was brought into my care on the 2nd May, 1998. He was unconscious, but vitals seemed fine. I ran a diagnostic spell and healed any injuries I found. There were not many, just a few scrapes and fractures, which were expected after the Battle. He was malnourished and seemingly small for his age, however I did not find it as a concerning factor. His friends from the Battle have reported that he willingly took a Killing Curse to his chest, which I have found no evidence of on his body, unlike his first time where a curse scar remained. The lightening bolt on his forehead remains as an identifying factor, although a friend had commented it had faded in colour, supposedly in correlation to You-Know-Who's demise. Mr Potter was expected to wake in the next 48 hours, in consideration of his magical core refilling and his body healing to his full potential. This did not happen and so the patient has been moved to a more secluded and long-term area where Healer Johnson has taken over."

Severus wanted to throttle the idiotic Healer. Vitals 'seemed fine'? The boy was malnourished but Briggs 'did not find it as a concerning factor'? On one hand, this report was written shortly after the Final Battle and many injured were likely much more in need of attention and care. On the other hand, the Potions Master could not believe the healer's impropriety and lack of professionalism. Furthermore, the report proved to be rushed and Potter locked up into another ward in less than a week. It was almost as if Briggs just wanted the Boy Who Lived out of the way. The hero did his duty, now he can be disposed of? 

The man rubbed a hand down his face. Why was he getting so worked up? He was clearly over thinking this. 

Not wanting to delve deeper, Severus threw the report aside and picked up the next one; Healer Johnson's.

"Harry Potter was transferred into my care on 5th May, 1998. His breathing and heart rates were both constantly monitored, but not once have I found anything irregular. I performed diagnostical spells of multiple strengths, and although it showed me a great deal of past injuries (see attached documents), he was supposedly fully healed. My theory consisted of the idea that Harry's injury was confined to his mind or magic and not his physical shape. Therefore, I passed his care to Mindhealer Simmons and Magic Specialist Rhyla Avers."

Without hesitation, the Potions Master moved on to the attached document of the scans. 

"Diagnostics performed: 15:02, 7th May, 1998. Patient: Harry James Potter.

Age 0: common cold, fever

Age 1: minor sickness, Killing Curse, fractured parietal bone, concussion, malnourishment

Age 2: broken tibia, burn on right palm, malnourishment, concussion, cut on face

Age 3: fractured right wrist, malnourishment, scrapped knees, concussion 

Age 4: malnourishment, three broken fingers on left hand, weak bladder

Age 5: concussion, fractured rib, burn on left palm, split lip, scraped elbows

Age 6: fever, sickness, malnourishment, fractured cheekbone, broken nose 

Age 7: 3 bruised ribs, concussion, severe dehydration, ear infection, dogbite

Age 8: flu, broken jaw, malnourishment, bruised throat, migraines, cuts on scalp

Age 9: anaemia, dislocated right shoulder, concussion, malnourishment

Age 10: broken left femur, dehydration, sunburn, malnourishment, scraped knees

Age 11: malnourishment, forehead pain, scraped knee, concussion, subjected to unknown dark magic

Age 12: forehead pain, dehydration, malnourishment, broken arm, scraped knees and elbows, basilisk bite

Age 13: dogbite, bruised knuckles, forehead pain, subjected to dementors

Age 14: forehead pain, fractured right wrist, concussion, mild cut to left arm, Cruciatus Curse, Imperius Curse, bruised backbone

Age 15: scars on back, forehead pain, subjected to dementor, Black Quill, unknown dark magic, scraped knees and elbows

Age 16: forehead pain, malnourishment, unknown dark magic, Cruciatus Curse

Age 17: subjected to unknown dark magic, forehead pain, concussion, subjected to dementors, Killing Curse"

Severus dropped the parchment, beyond shocked at the extensive list. This... It wasn't possible! He knew the Hospital Wing was technically Potter's second home, but these injuries were way over what he suspected. He also felt sick at the thought of the boy's life at his muggle relatives. Of course, Severus knew Petunia from his early childhood; that cruel and vile girl. Though he supposed she grew up and took care - pampered - Lily's son. He was wrong. He was so wrong. The Potions Master could not get himself to read the other files. Instead after a hot shower, he took some Floo powder and ascended to the Headmistress' office. 

He needed to talk to Albus. His mentor. Due to his hands, there now was only a mere portrait left of the elder, however that didn't mean he wasn't there for him. Was this breaking the Healer's secrecy pact? Perhaps it does not apply to portraits, Severus reasoned. But if Minerva overheard? It didn't matter. He had to talk to someone and his parent figures were a better option than Potter's old friends. 

"Severus?" he looked up to be faced with Minerva's concerned expression. She stood and guided him to a seat, "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a dementor." 

He didn't know how to start. He vaguely remembered the scrunched report in his palms and without any explanation, he handed it over. The Headmistress took it cautiously then rolled it open. Severus turned towards Dumbledore's portrait, desperately in need of answers. 

"Did you know?" he choked out, and Albus raised an eyebrow in confusion, "About Potter's homelife. Did you know?" 

The elder looked away dreamily and stroked his long white beard, "Harry has mentioned not wanting to return there. Every year actually. He pleaded me to stay at Hogwarts, but I had to decline due to the Blood Wards." 

Severus shook his head in disgust. He felt anger rise in him and got up to pace the office to shake it off. He wished to crush the Dursleys. Crush, chop, use them in potions. No, they would be of no use. Maybe some painful curs- His plans were interrupted by rapid spell fire towards Dumbledore's portrait. 

"How could you?! I told you Albus! I told you that they are the worst sorts of muggles! You didn't listen, and I trusted you! I trusted you to keep him safe and protected!" Minerva raged at her late husband. The Potions Master eventually intervened and held her back from causing further damage to the surroundings. Silence then overtook, followed by gossip-filled whispers from the other portraits. 

The Headmistress took the offer of comfort from him and hid her face in his chest, her body shaking with silent sobs. Severus was used to this position by now. He held Minerva more times he can count over the last years of mourning. She also held him. Joint comfort, strengthened bond. 

While Albus stared wide eyed in the background never truly comprehending the extent of the consequences of his own actions. 


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. Hope you enjoy! Make sure to leave comments and Kudos if you like x

Severus woke the following day, determined to visit the boy he failed. The reports were just added guilt. Thinking back to Potter's school years, there were signs he himself decided to ignore. The Potions Master was blinded by... By what? Oh yes; hatred. But nit even hatred towards Potter. No, it was Potter Sr. Severus was reminded of how the people looked at him in Cokeworth, completely prejudiced by his father. He couldn't forget those burning eyes, wishing he never had to step a foot in that corner shop again.

Realising he was still laying in bed, Severus got up and ready. He pointedly refused to read the rest of Potter's files. Perhaps not one of his best ideas, but he simply could not bring himself to. Soon, he found himself in St Mungo's waiting area. He was already regretting his decision of showing up unprepared and was ready to cowardly back out when Minerva showed up and took the seat next to him.

"I thought I'd find you here." Minerva started, "Did they say how long you need to wait?"

Grudgingly the Potions Master replied shaking his head "No. But I don't understand these imbeciles. Potter is unconscious, is he not? What does it matter if I visit now or half an hour later?"

"That is a good point." Minerva frowned, "Maybe they need to give him daily potions, or bathe him. Or something like that. We should ask Poppy. She would know more about Healer practices."

Severus gave another grunt, and rose as soon as he saw the Healer he talked to before reemerge. Minerva stood too and the Healer smiled and greeted her like old friends. Did they know each other? The Healer let them through the double doors and left Minerva to lead the way. And then the obvious clicked. 

"You come here often." he stated, and Minerva gave him a nod. "Everyday if I can. I talk to him about my day. Any news. Read him some of Lovegood's Quibbler. Not the Prophet, of course. I am unsure how Skeeter is still employed."

The Headmistress stopped in front of Room 252. She hesitated a moment, then took the handle and pushed the door open. Severus followed into the silence with his own quiet steps. Without looking up, he carefully closed the door behind him and stood with his back to the bed for a brief moment. This was a bad idea. Stupid. He sighed and turned and his breath halted. There Potter laid - pale and fragile looking - wrapped in blankets that seem to have just been replaced or cleaned. His messy hair spread out on his pillow, longer and darker than Severus remembered. And lastly, those emerald eyes he could not see made his stomach clench with emotion.

Minerva sat and conjured another chair next to her. She took one of Potter's hands and started talking to the young man. The Potions Master felt like he was invading a private moment, but he listened instead of running.

"Hello again Harry. It's the fifth of July. I apologise for not being able to come yesterday. Things have been a bit hectic with preparing for the new academic year. Sending out letters you know. Always a busy time." she took a breath and continued, while caressing the boy's hand, "Albus sends his regards, as always. Although I am not very happy with him at the moment. We had an argument last night. Can you believe it? Even as a portrait he can annoy me so much that I fire hexes his way."

Minerva attempted to chuckle but it turned out as a dry and painful sound. She cleared her throat and glanced towards Severus. "It was Professor Snape who stopped me from destruction. Well, he is no longer a professor as I have mentioned on previous occasions."

The Potions Master sat shaken. She has talked about him to Potter? But why? They... They were well known for their disagreements. Potter was the one who technically saved his life, and as he heard, the young man cleared his name right in front of the Dark Lord!

"Neville's parents are doing very well. They all are. Perhaps not so Hermione and Ron. They miss you Harry. I miss you too, and many more people." another clearing of her throat and another glance towards the third person in the room, "Severus is actually here with me today."

Time froze. Both stared at the dead-looking Potter, in hope of him showing any sign of life. Yet no. Not even his heart rate lifted. So Minerva carried on, as if she hasn't just believed in making a difference.

"Severus has taken up on your...case, without a better word for it. I'm confident that he will provide you with the necessary help you need to join us in the land of the conscious. I'm sure of it."

Minerva raised an eyebrow in question, and Severus shook his head, wide-eyed. She wanted him to talk to Potter? He couldn't. Or not in front of her anyway. Somehow the Headmistress understood and left after a goodbye, promise to be back the next day, and a kiss on the young man's forehead. She whispered she'll wait outside, as she passed by the tense Potions Master, and squeezed his shoulder in encouragement. The door closed and silence overtook.

"Potter." he awkwardly greeted, "It's very unfortunate to see you in this state. I certainly thought I would not be able to get rid of you begging for more memories of your mother."

Severus shivered at his words. Although truth it may be, that was definitely a low blow. He knew he wasn't fit for this job. He should just give it up now. Before he gets too involved. However, he was already too involved, wasn't he? Too attached to the young, unmoving statue of the trouble-maker he remembered.

"I suppose it is a right time for apologies. Not from you, I mean. Erm." he momentarily shut his eyes then reopened them, "I'm sorry for my poor treatment towards you over the years. I'm sorry for lying to you when it mattered the most. I'm sorry for...ignoring the obvious signs that your relatives abused you."

The machine next to Severus gave a shrill, and the man snapped his head around to see Potter's heart rate elated. The boy himself showed no signs of awareness, not even a twitch in a finger. But he heard Severus, he was sure of it! He was suddenly overwhelmed with wanting to talk to the boy more. He wanted to assure him that he was going to help. Cure him. Wake him. He wanted to keep apologising for his faults over the years. The way he indirectly forced the boy into walking to his own death. He wanted to tell him that the Dursleys will pay for everything they did and that he never had to see them again.

His thoughts jumbled and mouth open but no sound coming out, Severus barely felt as Minerva guided him out the room. He didn't see as Healers rushed in and shut the door. He aimlessly walked towards the direction Minerva took him. She even flooed with him to his quarters. They sat on his couch and Severus noted how the arms around him never felt. His mind slowly cleared and he was able to speak coherently once again.

"He heard me." the Potions Master whispered, afraid that he just imagined it, but Minerva confirmed it, "He did."

His face flushed remembering what he said to the boy, then he slowly acknowledged Minerva's tears that soaked his shirt. "Hey, it's okay. This is a good sign. He will be okay." he attempted to comfort her.

The flood gates opened then properly and he pulled her closer. "Honestly woman. I do hope you drink enough because these moments are becoming a routine and we wouldn't want you to get dehydrated." he drawled and the Headmistress laughed.

"You're humour is yet to dampen." she sniffed, "Sorry. It's just... I've been visiting him for years and never once has he responded to anyone like that. It just reminded me that there is hope. I was starting to forget..." 

It felt like hours later when Minerva flooed back to her office. Severus then decided on a hot shower and an early night. For some reason, just seeing the poor boy exhausted him. Just like old times, he thought. 

Unknown to the residents of Hogwarts, the Boy Who Lived laid awake in his dark room at St Mungo's. His emerald eyes moved around the room, but seeing only darkness, they closed once more. Harry faintly heard his door open and knowing the routine that followed, he retreated deep into his mind. His hands felt the spiky grass and dry earth. His mouth tasted the summer air, and his nose smelled the smoke from the barbecues his neighbours often held in this weather. His face burnt under the Sun. And when his eyes finally opened, a smile overtook his face. 

His safe place. 


End file.
